My day literally, LITERALLY started out with a toilet shower. After taking a sick day yesterday, I stumbled into work bleary-eyed and already hating the world. At 8:30 I headed to the bathroom. After finishing my "business" I stood up and the automatic toilet flusher thing went off.
And fired a huge spray of water up and out from the pipes at the top of the toilet.
My back was drenched and I was in total disbelief of what had just happened. Luckily, it was the clean water that sprayed me and not the ACTUAL toilet water, or I might still be on the floor in hysterics.
My day did not improve from then on. Working on huge projects all day and the receptionist called in sick so I had to man the front desk while also trying to get my own work done. Not a great day.
Last night I journeyed to the wonderful haven of Barnes and Noble to pick out a notebook. It took me a good twenty minutes of comparing and contrasting design, sturdiness, line width and number of pages. I am a writer and very specific about being comfortable when I write. I chose a spiral-bound so I can write with ease on both the fronts and backs of the pages. It's a brightly-colored design of owls, made of recycled materials.
I paid for the notebook (and an inspirational bookmark which I shall share later), bought myself a coffee, and wandered to the fertility books. I picked out three of them ("Infertility for Dummies" being among them) and settled in a comfy chair. I opened my notebook with a satisfying creak and proceeded to write the following entry:
"I spent an inordinate amount of time choosing the journal, searching for one that was Just Right. If has to feel right - sturdy, cheerful and supportive enough to bear the weight of a pen in distress. I believe this one will do the job. I also purchased a bookmark that says:
'BE courageous! HAVE faith! GO forward!' - Edison
It seems an appropriate sentiment as I go forward with this journey. I just hope I don't lose the stupid bookmark.
Later...
So much time choosing the bookmark, in fact, that I didn't even get a chance to glance at the three fertility books I had picked out in the store. I had to rush off to a meeting and sit with a pregnant girl on my left and a girl holding a newborn on my right. Super fun, I assure you.
It's probably a good thing I didn't read the books. I'm trying to limit those types of activities as much as I can until I actually talk to the doctor, with a few slip-ups (frantically searching the Web for any nugget of information or hope).
Right now I'm just suspended in an awful kind of stasis as I wait for the opportunity to do my blood work again, wait for the results, and wait to speak with the doctor.
Far too much waiting on an issue that will affect my life immeasureably."
The notebook will become my journal, my notebook, my haven of ideas, book titles and research. I hope it will help me to write out my feelings instead of letting them boil inside of me.
On the very first page I wrote:
"Journal Started March 1, 2011"
with a lot of blank space beneath it.
Hopefully someday, that blank space will contain the names and birthdates of my children.
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